


Apotheosis

by Xela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Angst, M/M, Other, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-08
Updated: 2011-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:17:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xela/pseuds/Xela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam briefly wondered when the virgin angel of the lord had taken control of this whole encounter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apotheosis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [someblazingstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/someblazingstar/gifts).



> Thank you, someblazingstar, for requesting Sam/Dean/Cas. It's a trio I've thought about writing, but just never did—until your prompt came along. ROCK.  Also, I'm also geekily proud with myself in regards to the sheer number of references I managed to pack into the first section.
> 
> Much thanks to carinas_carinae, who is awesome and deserves all the cookies in the world.

They found the Oracle on April 1. Dean thought it stunningly appropriate as the cosmos was obviously playing a huge _fucking_ joke on them.

The Oracle was a six-year-old in a frilly paisley dress with a penchant for raising three feet off the floor to deliver dire predictions about death, doom, and destruction.

"This cannot be avoided," the creepy little girl intoned. Her voice resonated in every audible register, giving it a layered feel, as if there were many different people speaking at the same time through the same medium. Dean's trigger finger twitched. "This is the only Path left to you. All others result in failure. So say we all."

"We can't—that's not..." Sam trailed off, looking stunned and dismayed.

"You doubt us, Child of Dark?" the Oracle asked. Dean couldn't tell if they were amused, insulted, or some otherworldly combination of both.

"I am not—"

"You are. The Child of Dark, the Child of Light, and the Vessel—"

"With the pestle gets the brew that is true," Dean interrupted snidely. "We got it. We do not accept."

"Acceptance?" the Oracle hissed. The child's lips twisted into a jaded snarl of a smile. "Your _acceptance_ , Dean Winchester, is not required—just your acquiescence."

"Yeah, 'cause you'll get that." Dean held his ground as the Oracle stalked forward.

"We." The Oracle's eyes began to glow, power pouring out of the child and crawling over Dean's skin. Invisible hands wrapped around Dean's throat and began to close. "We Are.  We Are Eternal. We care not about this world, these people. You came to _us_ with a Question. We gave you an Answer. Do as you will. But know this: if you do not, you will fail and this world will burn." Dean's vision swam and blurred. He clawed frantically at the invisible threads of power cutting of his air, desperate for breath. He vaguely heard Sam, far away, yelling.

"Enough." Power, stronger and purer, than the Oracle's swept over Dean. He fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for air as the oily touch was replaced by something familiar. Large hands settled on his back.

Dean looked up to find Castiel standing between him and the Oracle. Dean let Sam haul him up. His knees didn't want to support him, so Sam slid an arm around his waist and Dean managed to throw an arm up around Sam's neck.

"Acknowledge," the Oracle hissed, anger making its borrowed skin translucent. Sparks of power snapped around it and an invisible wind lifted its hair. "Acknowledge truth. Acknowledge _us._ " Dean would give anything for Castiel to tell the Oracle it was a crock of shit and kick its ass back to the dawn of time.

"I accept your words as truth," Castiel said, and Dean cringed. Not what he'd been hoping to hear. "But I acknowledge nothing else." The Oracle's face morphed into one of abject fury and Dean cringed back involuntarily when its gaze settled on him.

"Denial will not change your fate," the Oracle spat at him.

"You will address me," Castiel ordered, stepping between the Oracle and Dean once again.

"You?" the Oracle hissed. Its lips twisted into an ugly simile. "Who will _you_ ask for help now, _Castiel?"_ It disappeared without another word.

"Well fuck," Dean summed up eloquently.

***

"Dean—"

"No."

"Dean."

"No."

"Dean!"

"NO, Sammy. Shut the fuck up." Dean cranked the radio up and gunned the engine. He tensed as Sam leaned across the seat. His breath caressed the sensitive shell of Dean's ear.

"We have to talk about this," Sam said. "We _will_ talk about this."

Dean swallowed and kept his eyes trained on the road ahead, fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

***

"You should talk to Dean."

"I have tried. He keeps trying to feed me pie," Castiel said, a slight frown on his face. Sam sighed.

"At least he hasn't been making you watch porn," Sam muttered, scrubbing his hands over his face. Dean's attempts to reinforce his heterosexuality were wearing on Sam. The worst of pay-per-view porn, skin mags left everywhere, and Sam has slept in the car more times in the past two weeks than when Dean was a teenager.

Sam looked up when he felt himself being watched to find Castiel studying him. Castiel never fidgeted, twitched or moved. He stood completely still, his chest moving in breaths far too even to be natural. It all made Sam twitchy, these small signs that Castiel wasn't completely human. Castiel's gaze seared through Sam, eyes too blue and far too knowing.

"Isn't this a little...sordid to be Heaven's plan?" Sam asked abruptly. Castiel regarded him with steadily.

"Sordid," Castiel repeated. His head tilted to one side as he considered Sam's question. "This is not Heaven's plan. Heaven's plan is to let humanity burn in the fires of attrition. The Oracle's solution is based in rules that are far more...primal."

"Primal," Sam echoed.

"Heaven and Hell are both bound by the rules of this world. Opposition, sex, passion—these are the most fundamental forces on Earth. Combining them all in Dean will result in a nexus of power to rival Lucifer's. For a time, Dean will be the most powerful force in the world."

"Right, well, it's going to be a moot point if we can't even get Dean to talk about it much less follow through." Castiel cocked his head and Sam felt like a particularly interesting bug under a very powerful microscope.

"Dean has reacted predictably to the circumstances." Sam stretched up to his full height, glaring challengingly at Castiel. There was nothing predictable about this situation. "Your reaction has been much more interesting."

"I'm making the best of the situation," Sam snarled. Castiel's lips quirked up into a mocking little smile.

"Yes. I do believe you are." Castiel disappeared with a flutter of wings. Sam swore fervently in the empty room.

***

Dean had four empty beer bottles, three shot glasses and one martini glass proudly lined up in front of him when Cas sat down at the bar.

"Want one?" He offered Castiel a shot of something dark. Castiel contemplated the liquid, shrugged, and threw it back the way he'd watched Dean do countless times. He could feel the alcohol burn the back of his vessel's throat and a warmth spread through his stomach. Curious, he let the feeling roll through him. He found it not unpleasant.

"So that redhead is giving you the eye." Castiel followed Dean's gaze. The woman was attractive and indeed giving him "the eye," as Dean put it. "You should go for it. Call it practice." Dean took another shot—something deep red and smelling faintly of fruit.

"I believe Jimmy's thoughts and memories on the subject, coupled with my own observations, are more than sufficient."

"Oh yeah? Jimmy had a lot of practice with gay threesomes?" Dean asked sarcastically, then blanched. He reached for another shot glass but Castiel intercepted it. He enjoyed the fruit flavor much better than the last.

"Jimmy would surprise you," Castiel said blandly, smacking his lips. Yes, much better. "Sam is worried." This time, he didn't try to stop Dean from drinking. Two shots disappeared in rapid succession.

"Sam," Dean said, his words slower than normal, "is not the one getting fucked."

"He's worried about you."

"Sam should worry about himself!" Dean snarled.

"You just said—"

"I know what I said. Fuck what I said and this whole fucking fucked up _fuck_ of a situation." Dean downed another shot and grimaced. "Why's it always sex?"

"Sex is—"

"Issa rhet-orical question, Cas. I get why it's always sex. Sex's fun. 's sexy."

"Then your objection stems from—"

"'m not gay." Dean gestured with his hand and sent his assembled glassware tumbling over. Castiel prevented them from shattering on the ground with a thought; now was not the time to get kicked out of the bar. "Very not gay. 've shlept with lossa wimmin."

"And this is your only objection?" Castiel persisted and pulled Dean upright in his seat. He's harbored a secret, long-growing suspicion that the majority of humanity was not quite as complicated or moronic as the Winchesters. Dean shot Castiel a dirty look and reached for more alcohol. Castiel got there first.

"Th'ell d'you think you're doing?" Dean demanded belligerently.

"I am cutting you off," Castiel said. He was surprised to find that particular idiom made sense under the circumstances.

"No. Give it back." Castiel raised an eyebrow as Dean draped himself along the bar, pressed close to Castiel as he reached for the bottle. Dean typically didn't invade Castiel's space in this way. "Give!" Castiel shifted so that his chest and Dean's were pressed against each other, maximizing contact. Dean's breath puffed over his skin, causing a warmth—similar to the one from the alcohol—to spread through him.

Dean abruptly stilled. Castiel could feel the soft gust of his breaths on exposed skin cause his arousal to grow. Fascinating.  And distracting. Dean's eyes were glassy and unfocused...and trained on Castiel's lips. Dean leaned in closer.

The tip of his tongue traced over angel lips. Nice angel. Nice lips. Dean leaned in closer. Wasn't so bad, this. Could get used to it. Felt all warm 'n fuzzy. Though that could be the tequila. Or the Jack. Or the vodka. Not the rum though, never the rum. Dean pulled back a little. Hmmm. He needed more lips.

Castiel touched Dean and cured him of his drunkenness.

Dean stared at Cas for a moment before pushing away and exiting the building at a flat run. Castiel convinced the bartender he wanted to give them their drinks for free—'on the house' was still as mystifying as ever—and followed Dean out of the bar in a much more dignified manner. He watched Dean pace the length of the parking lot with uneven, angry steps.

"Give me back my buzz," Dean ordered.

"No," Castiel answered calmly. Dean threw up his hands and continued his pacing, murmuring epithets Castiel chose not to hear or understand.

"I'm not going to do this."

"Alright." Dean froze and blinked owlishly at Castiel.

"Alright?"

"Neither Sam nor I would force you."  Dean did his best to ignore that comment.  Sam had been making it abundantly clear that he wasn't exactly against the idea of--no.  Dean wouldn't go there.  Couldn't go there, because down that path lay badness Dean had long ago promised himself he'd never, ever travel.  No matter the temptation.

"Not what the Oracle said. Aqua—"

"Acquiescence," Castiel corrected. "That's not good enough for Sam, and I find the concept distasteful."

"Distasteful," Dean repeated disbelievingly. "You find me distasteful." Castiel felt a flair of irritation at Dean's willful misinterpretation.

"That is not—"

"Can angels even have sex?"

"If we could not, you would have nothing to worry about," Cas said dryly, letting Dean have his interruption.

"You know, this sense of humor you've developed is kind of annoying."

"I will endeavor to do better."

Dean stared unflinchingly at Castiel, the banter sliding away.

"If I don't agree?" Dean asked, conflict evident on his face. "If I can't—" _Can't let Sam fuck me. Can't let you fuck me. Can't be the_ fucking _Vessel in some ancient ritual set down by a six-year-old in a pretty little dress.  Can't go through with something I've never acknowledged I wanted even though it's being handed to me on a silver platter and then go back to normal in the morning._

"Then the world will burn and you will die with your heterosexuality and family values intact."

Dean let out a startled bark of laughter. "You would be a twisted fuck."

They both ignored the fact that Castiel was telling the truth.

***

Castiel stood on the craggy peak of a mountain overlooking a desolate valley no human had set foot in in two hundred four years, twenty two days, and four-point-three hours. This windswept place, barren of all but the most tenacious life, settled the restlessness leftover from his talk with Dean.

"I've heard things." Castiel remained unmoved, staring over the landscape. He resented Anna's intrusion on his solitude but it wouldn't do to show it. "Are you going to do it?" Anna looked at him with knowing. She'd been human; she'd fallen. She knew the temptations he faced.

"Heaven wants a war. There is no other choice."

"You could let Heaven have its war." Castiel tore his eyes from the fading light and glared at Anna. "You could lose everything if you do this." Castiel turned away and watched the sun glide down beneath the horizon, the last golden rays giving way to twilight.

He had nothing to say to her.

***

Time was growing short. They could all feel it, an itch under their skin—borrowed or otherwise.

Dean continued to avoid the issue, pushing Sam farther and farther away each day. He disappeared with strings of women and came back in the morning looking haunted and empty. He flinched at loud sounds and drummed his fingers mindlessly on the steering wheel as they drove longer and longer each day, Dean trying to run away from something that wouldn't shake.

Sam watched. He ignored the twisted part of him that salivated with the knowledge that Dean would give in, that Sam would finally get a taste of what had been denied him all these years. Because there was no way Dean would watch the world implode around him if there was something in his power to stop it, regardless of what he had to do.

So Dean ran away, Sam watched Dean, and Castiel watched them both, silent and aloof. All their watching just made Dean run harder and farther.

\----

Sam clicked through a couple of websites before he pushed his laptop away in disgust. Dean had disappeared last night almost before he finished eating, a bottle blonde on his arm. It was almost twenty-four hours later and Sam hadn't heard a peep from him. There were only so many distractions Sam could come up with trapped in the motel room—he didn't want to leave in case Dean came home bleeding, or needed him, or...

"Cas! Castiel!" Sam huffed in frustration. "Cas—"

"Sam." It spoke to how much time he'd been spending with the angel that Sam didn't even jump when Cas appeared in the room. He also didn't flinch when he turned around and Castiel was mere inches from his face.

"Do you know where Dean is?" Sam asked, taking a step back. Cas closed his eyes.

"He is safe."

Sam grit his teeth. "Any idea _where_ he's off being safe?"

"Yes. He is in the Impala. Sam? You are an alarming shade of red."

"One day," Sam said tersely, "you and I are going to have a long talk about being so damned _literal._ "

"How long do you plan on this talk taking?" Castiel asked. It took Sam a minute to figure out Castiel was messing with him, another minute to get past the sheer shock of it, and a third to splutter through an attempted response. Castiel smirked.

"I hate you a little bit right now,” Sam grumbled.

"Do you?" Castiel asked seriously. Sam froze, the feeling of being caught on the edge of something exhilarating and terrifying overwhelming him. Cas watched him expectantly.

"No," Sam said, barely a whisper. Sam stared at Castiel waiting for something. The band around his chest loosened when Castiel stepped into his personal space. They stood like that for a moment, watching each other, on the brink of something unexpected.

"Dean will come around—"

"This isn't just about Dean," Sam interrupted fervently. Castiel stood his ground as Sam leaned into him. "We can't put everything on Dean's shoulders." Sam pushed down his nerves and pressed his lips to Castiel's. Cas tilted his head up to accept Sam's kiss.

At first, he was just as stilted and stiff as Sam imagined. But then Castiel softened and began to kiss back. He followed Sam's lead, opening at the press of a tongue, taking his time. Sam tangled one hand in the back of Cas's hair, pulling his head back. His other hand tried to loosen Castiel's tie, but really just succeeded in mangling it beyond all recognition.

Sam swore he felt Cas smile into the kiss before the angel jerked him forwards, unbalancing Sam and making him flail. Sam fell onto the bed, his weight pressed flush against Cas. Sam regained his balance and climbed onto the mattress, straddling Castiel, one knee to each side of Castiel's narrow, bony hips.

This wasn't supposed to feel so good. Sam's hands started trying to part Castiel's shirt, searching out bare skin. Too many clothes, too many layers.

"Fuck a duck." Sam wrenched himself away from Cas to stare at Dean, halfway in the room carrying take-out, and staring at them with wide eyes.

"We were, we just—" Sam tripped over himself to get the words out, falling inelegantly off the bed in a tangle of limbs. Castiel calmly rose to face Dean, hauling Sam up by one arm. Sam glanced at him and realized they were still far too close together, their bodies gravitating towards one another. He took a deliberate step away from Cas and raked his hand through his mussed hair.

"Yeah, I saw what you _just,"_ Dean sneered. "And _I'll_ just go. Let you two get better acquainted."

"That is unnecessary," Castiel said dismissively. "Sam and I were merely testing our compatibility."

"Oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days," Dean said loftily. The way Dean's hands were clenched into fists gave away his discomfort. He also refused to look anywhere near Sam.

"Dean—"

"Right, well, if you two are done, I'm hungry." Dean sat down at the dinky table in the corner, his back to them. Sam stared helplessly at his brother's back. He knew the instant Cas pulled his disappearing angel shtick. Fucker.

***

"Dean—"

"I'm going out," Dean said, brushing by Sam.

"Dean, come on, it's been a week. You can't—"

"Do not," Dean growled, spinning around to face Sam, "tell me what I can and cannot do." Sam nodded and held up his hands appealingly.

"Alright. Sorry. Just...please. Don't go." For a second Sam thought Dean might stay, might let go of his anger and fear long enough for them to work this out. Or at least say three civil words to one another.

"Don't wait up."

\---

"What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

Dean grunted and finished his beer, then signaled for another.

"What's an angel like you doing out of lock up?" he asked Anna.

"You can't do it," she said bluntly, cutting through the bullshit. Kind of like Cas used to do, before they'd house-trained him.

Dean chugged half his beer in one go, wishing it was something stronger. The only problem was _something stronger_ just led his brain down a never-ending path of inevitable outcomes and disturbing threesomes. Disturbing in all the wrong ways.

"You know, a lot of people have been telling me what to do lately. I'm pretty much tired of it," Dean said.

"Dean," Anna pleaded, grabbing his arm, "you _cannot_ do this."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I can," Dean drawled. He took a long sip of his beer to hide his panic. This was the first time he admitted out loud. To a brainwashed angel, no less. Fuck. His. Life.

"Humanity will survive this. It's going to be brutal and deadly, and it won't be easy, but some of you will make it. Think of the future. No demons, nothing that goes bump in the night. Sacrifices have to be made, that's the price of change, but they will not have died in vain. I promise you that." Anna spoke with the conviction of a zealot. It made the hairs on the back of Dean's neck stand up.

"The ends justify the means," Dean muttered to himself. Odd how everything could click into place in a moment.

"So you understand," Anna said, relieved.

Dean decided a shot or two was in order.

"Yeah. I do."

\---

Dean was not drunk enough for this. Then again, Cas probably wouldn't let him get away with being drunk for too long, so it was a moot point anyways. Dean paused outside of the hotel door. Number 14.

When he walked in there everything was going to change.

Dean leaned his head against the door and closed his eyes.  He had about five seconds to turn a lifetime of conditioning on its head. All those years spent convincing himself he didn't want and couldn't have and would _never._   Dean stared at the paint peeling off the door.  Yeah, he never was good at thinking.  Doing, on the other hand...

Dean burst through the door all big smiles and cheer. Cas and Sam both looked surprised to see him. At least they weren't making out this time.

"Oh good, you're both here," Dean said brightly. He stripped off his shirt.

"Uh...Dean..." Sam trailed off, half his brain enthralled with the play of muscles on Dean's chest. The other half was trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

"What are you waiting for? Let's do this!" Dean faced Sam and Castiel like a man who planned to grin all the way through his execution, white teeth and bright eyes gleaming in the motel light. Sam could see the fear and desperation underneath Dean's facade. "Well? Let's get this party started." Dean ran a hand down his chest and Sam swallowed.

Cas, expression inscrutable, shrugged out of his coat and removed his tie. Dean twitched but kept still, smile plastered on his face. Castiel started in on his cuffs and slid a sideways glance in Sam's direction. Sam pulled himself together and took a deep breath.

Panic flashed in Dean's eyes when Sam took a decisive step forwards, bringing himself to the edge of Dean's personal space.

"Dean," Sam whispered hoarsely, choked by emotion. He'd wanted this for so long. _So long._ It was always wrong and fucked and not okay but he'd been craving this for what felt like forever and Dean was standing right there in front of him. Saving the world. Sam reached out towards Dean, who flinched away, right into Castiel.

"What the—" Dean tried to spin around but Castiel's arms wrapped around his chest, holding him in place. Sam noted how Castiel's fingers framed one of Dean's dark nipples.

"Relax, Dean," Castiel advised. He nuzzled against Dean's ear, his voice pitched low and intimate. "Let go. Just...feel." Sam stifled a hysterical laugh. Castiel, uptight bastard extraordinaire, telling Dean to feel. There was an epic joke hidden in there somewhere.

Dean took in a deep, shuddering breath, eyes sliding closed. Trying to calm himself. Sam could see his pulse fluttering at his neck, his chest expanding with each deep, contrived breath. Dean's whole body had a thin sheen of sweat over it. Sam raised a hand to touch Dean's chest but couldn't do it.

This...this was not a man who came willingly. What had the Oracles told Dean? They only required his _acquiescence._ Sam remembered this from his pre-law classes: agreement or consent by silence or without objection. An agreement for someone not to protest, even if they _don't_ agree. Sam...Sam couldn't do that to Dean.

Sam backed up a step, then another. Castiel's blue eyes snapped to him and he froze, caught between the promise in those eyes, offering Sam what he'd lusted after for years and then some, and the screaming in his mind.

"Sam," Castiel called. His voice was low and sensual, coaxing. He ran a hand up and down Dean's chest. He rolled some of Dean's nipples between his fingers and Sam felt choked with want. "Sam."

"I—I don't...I can't..." Sam stuttered, torn between equally powerful conflicting needs, which just left him stuck where he was. Dean's eyes slid open, green and a little bit glazed. He saw the distance between them and started to squirm, his carefully cultivated calm slipping away.

"Sam." Dean reached out towards him, Adam's apple bobbing, breath turning shallow and quick. _"Sammy."_

That was all Sam needed to hear. He stumbled towards Dean, stopping just before they touched. He could feel heat of Dean's body, smell his unique scent...could reach out and taste if he wanted.

"Dean," Sam whispered. He cupped Dean's face, thumb tracing over his cheekbones. Dean leaned into the touch, still tense but no longer hyperventilating. No longer flinching away. Whatever they did here tonight, they were doing it together, and Sam let himself smile.

"Let me help," Castiel murmured against Dean's ear. Dean swallowed and nodded jerkily, eyes never leaving Sam's. Castiel pressed his fingers to Dean's temple. He twitched and most of the tension leeched out of his body. Cas let his fingers skim over Dean's face and down his neck, goosebumps rising in their wake. Dean leaned back against Castiel, a movement Sam watched jealously.

"We are for you," Castiel said to Dean, his gaze boring into Sam. Sam nodded curtly, understanding the command for what it was. Castiel's hands slid over the flat planes of Dean's chest, exploring and learning. Sam took the opportunity to divest himself of his shirt, dropping it on the floor.

When he looked back up, Castiel and Dean were both watching him hungrily. Dean blushed, caught, and turned his head towards Cas. Sam wanted to grab Dean and make him look, see who would be touching him, fucking him, who wanted him in every way. Castiel's warning held him back—they were for Dean. Nothing else mattered.

One of Castiel's hands traveled up Dean's neck to cup his face; the other took a far less innocent path down Dean's body, fingers teasing at the cusp of Dean's jeans. Cas ran his thumb over Dean's lips, which parted slightly. His entire body stiffened when Castiel reached down into his pants. Sam dragged his gaze from Dean to Castiel, who nodded down at Dean's body, displayed wantonly for Sam's viewing pleasure.

Sam briefly wondered when the virgin angel of the lord had taken control of this whole encounter. Then Cas tugged on Dean's ear with his teeth and moved his hand. Dean's moan galvanized Sam into action.

Sam couldn't decide where to start. He wanted it all, wanted Dean writhing beneath him, in him, around him. Sam knelt and pressed a reverent kiss over Dean's heart. He couldn't resist the urge to taste the skin underneath his lips, his first true taste of Dean. He felt the hitch of hit brother's breath, the ripple of delicious tension that spread through his body. Sam latched on to the nipple Cas had teased him with, and Castiel moved his hand making Dean jerk forward into Sam, chasing his pleasure.

"Sammy." Sam looked up into pleasure-glazed eyes. Sam moved his hands to Dean's zip, watching him for any sign of discomfort. Castiel's hands traveled back up to Dean's chest, pinching and tweaking, hitting Dean's pleasure spots with unerring accuracy. Sam carefully popped the button of Dean's jeans and pulled down the zip.

No underwear. Sam laughed. Of course, no underwear.

"Touch him," Castiel ordered, his voice low and hoarse. Dean made a noise of agreement and Sam rubbed his fingers over the head of Dean's cock, framed by denim. Dean tilted his hips up, asking for more, but Sam kept his touches light, running just the tips of his fingers around the head, then down the shaft, mesmerized.

 _So pretty,_ flitted through his mind, nothing he would ever tell Dean.

"Sam.  Sam." Something stung his ear and Sam jerked out of his reverie. "SAM!"

"What?"

"No one likes a cock tease," Dean panted. Castiel chuckled and peered down at Sam over Dean's shoulder. Sam smirked and stripped Dean's pants down to his ankles in one smooth movement.

Dean yelped as he was simultaneously encased in a hot, eager mouth and two slick fingers were pressed into him from behind. His mind wanted to object to the unfamiliar intrusion, but Sam's mouth was too much of a distraction for anything else to matter.

"Too good," Dean gasped, arching against Castiel. Sam made a questioning noise that vibrated against Dean's dick. "Too good!"

"Look down, Dean," Castiel murmured. "Look at Sam." Dean found himself obeying without thought. Sam kneeling before him, lips stretched wide as Dean's cock disappeared inside, large hands clutching at Dean's hips—God, when had his hands knotted in Sam's hair like that? Castiel's fingers—three now—found Dean's prostate.

Dean came, unexpectedly and sharply. Sam choked and had to pull back, but he kept sucking Dean through his orgasm. When Dean was clean and spent, hi pulled off and looked up through his hair. Dean stared down at him with an awed expression, petting Sam's hair reverently.

"Dean?" Sam's voice sounded like sandpaper, and the back of his throat felt a little raw. Dean just kept petting him.

"To the bed," Castiel directed, and Sam nodded. Sam pulled Dean's pants the rest of the way off, then rose and together they push-pulled Dean to the bed. Sam lay down first and pulled Dean flush against him, chest-to-chest. Dean nuzzled against his neck and shifted for a kiss which Sam returned enthusiastically.

Sam heard the soft susurrous of clothes falling to the floor. Castiel appeared over Dean's shoulder, bare-chested.

"Dean," Sam murmured, pulling away from demanding lips. "Come on." Sam guided Dean's knees up so they were tucked underneath him and straddling Sam's body. From the small, hitching gasp Castiel let out, Sam knew Dean looked just as hot spread out and open as he imagined. Sam stroked his hand down Dean's spine, down to his ass, and teased a finger around the rim of his lubed hole. Dean tried to tense but Sam shushed him, sliding a finger in to the knuckle and distracting him with lips and teeth.

"Trust us, Dean," Sam asked, rubbing the small nub he found deep inside Dean. "Let us take care of you." Dean shuddered and buried his face in Sam's shoulder, small whimpers of pleasure reaching Sam's ears. Sam arched up and rubbed his erection against Dean, who started to harden again. A quick glance at Cas had him sliding his fingers into Dean alongside Sam. Castiel's other hand gently fondled Dean's balls, and soon they had Dean writhing and panting between them, hard and leaking as if he hadn't just come spectacularly down Sam's throat.

"Breathe," Sam instructed, "and push back." Dean looked at him with trepidation before taking a cleansing breath, forcing all his muscles to relax, and nodding. Sam held Dean's hips in place as Castiel entered him. Dean didn't make a sound but his fingers clenched at Sam's shoulders.

"You okay?" Sam murmured. His thumbs caressing the sharp jut of Dean's hipbones.

"Dean?" Castiel asked. He punctuated his question by scraping his teeth down the line of Dean's back.

"I'm—I'm good," Dean said, shuddering. Sam laughed and slipped a hand between them; a couple of strokes and Dean was fully hard again. Sam added a twist to his motion and Dean must have tensed because Castiel gasped and dropped his head to rest against Dean's shoulder.

"Do that again," Sam said with a grin. Dean grinned back and a moment later Castiel made a short, strangled sound and twitched hard enough that Sam felt it telegraphed through Dean.

"That...is not very kind," Castiel growled. His pupils were blown, just a thin ring of blue around the edges. His face was _right there,_ glaring at him over Dean's shoulder, so Sam went with his impulse and kissed him. Cas hesitated only a moment before kissing back. Sam was thankful he was lying on the bed, because that meant he had a hand free to cup the back of Castiel's head and pull him closer when he tried to move away.

Dean, feeling a bit ignored and a lot turned on, decided to take matters into his own hands. The kiss broke fairly quickly when he rocked his hips, his cock dragging against Sam's, Castiel's sliding in him in an increasingly familiar sensation that he was rapidly coming to appreciate.

Dean swore when he got his first real taste of being fucked, Cas drawing out and plunging back in with enough force to drive him down into Sam with an oomph. Sam's hand worked in time with Castiel's thrusts, pushing Dean towards the edge far faster than a man who'd already come not too long ago should. But Dean was trapped between them, totally at their mercy, and all he could do was brace himself.

Sam kept touching Dean, jerking him off, kissing his shoulder, running his free hand over Dean's sensitive skin. It helped keep Dean grounded under the onslaught of new sensation, the impulse to lose himself in the sex. He wanted to remember every moment of this.

Cas was letting out tiny grunts and sighs in Dean's ear, sounds more erotic than frenzied screams and pleas for more. Dean started experimenting with drawing louder sounds from him, tightening his muscles or moving in unexpected ways. Sam caught on and started helping him, clever fingers twisting a nipple, or raking over Cas's back, or on one memorable occasion spreading Dean's cheeks open farther and slipping a finger in alongside Castiel's cock, Dean crying out at the pleasure-pain of being stretched even wider, Castiel saying something in a language long dead.

"What does he feel like, Cas?" Sam asked, his voice liquid sex. Even Dean whimpered as the words caressed his skin and set fire to his nerves. "Were you a virgin, Dean? No one fucked you before Cas did they? Your first. Fucked by an angel."

"Jesus, Sammy that's—that's not fair," Dean moaned. Castiel's thrusts sped up with every word, his breath coming in harsh, ragged puffs. Angel got off on dirty talk, imagine that.

"It's not," Sam agreed, and raked his nails alongside Dean's chest. He arched up and took both their cocks in hand so they were pressed close together. Dean whimpered. "Fair is when _I_ fuck _you._ I won't even need lube because Cas will have been there first, left you slick and open and you're going to rip the sheets before I'm done. You're going to feel me, Dean, as deep in you as I can get. Deeper than you could ever imagine. You're going to come without me even having to touch you. And then I'm going to fuck Cas."

Cas thrust in so hard Dean lost his balance and sprawled over Sam. Cas grabbed his hips and angled them the way he wanted and fucked Dean without any finesse, the animal instincts of his human body taking over. Sam held onto a shaking, whimpering Dean as Castiel fucked him wide, took what he needed, and spilled into Dean with a shout.

Sam gripped Dean's cock and made him come with three brutal, unforgiving pulls. Castiel moaned as Dean's clenching muscles tightened around his overly-sensitive cock.

By the time Castiel slid out, Dean was half-dead to the world and never wanted to move again.

"Dean." He ignored whoever was talking. "Dean. Come on, we need—I gotta..." Somewhere in Dean's brain he realized Sam hadn't gotten off yet, had been hard for a painfully long time, and Dean wasn't quite done—except he really, really was. Completely, utterly spent.

"Help me roll him over." Hands grabbed him and shifted him around. Dean didn't bother to help; all four of them felt very strong and capable. Very nice. He let them turn him over on to his side.

Sam's arms wrapped around his chest from behind; he could feel Sam's cock nestled up against him, hard and hot. Dean gave a little shimmy just because he could, and laughed at Sam's growl. Castiel laid down in front of him, his eyes glowing blue and Dean wondered how he'd never noticed the sheer intensity behind them.  Castiel gave him a shy, awkward angel-smile that Dean couldn't help but return, albeit a little dopily.  Cas guided Dean's leg over his hip as Sam shifted into place.

"Don't forget to breathe," Sam reminded him. Sam pushed into Dean, who was as slick and open as he'd predicted, and they both moaned.  Sam fought the urge to come; he wouldn't last long but he planned on enjoying this for at least a little while.

"Oh fuck," Dean breathed.  Sam was bigger than Cas, and the angle was different than before. Deeper. By the time Sam was fully in Dean was sweating and digging his nails into Castiel's shoulders.

“Proportional,” Dean mumbled nonsensically.  Sam's laugh echoed in the dark room.  Dean gasped and moved his hips.

"Let Sam do the work," Castiel advised.  Dean's fingers dug in deeper; were Castiel human, he'd surely have bruises in the shape of Dean's hands.  He found he didn't mind that at all.

"Need to move," Sam ground out. Dean could hear the strain of arousal in his voice. "Now." That was all the warning he got, Sam's hips moving of their own accord, Sam's cock splitting him open and _fuck._

The feeling was incredible. Dean wasn't going to get hard again, but his entire body was sensitized. Every slide of Sam's cock was pure pleasure, tingling over his skin.

"Dean," Sam breathed, panting. The reverence in Sam's tone made goosebumps break out over Dean's arms. "God, Dean, can't believe—want this, want you." Sam's hips stuttered as he thrust up to meet Dean. His teeth dug into the tendons of Dean's neck, drawing a keening moan from the man beneath him. Wasn't going to last, wasn't going to last.

Sam whimpered as he neared completion, his body shaking with the need to come. Sam fought it for as long as he could until his orgasm crashed over him. He came inside Dean with a muffled cry, his entire body seizing in release. He never wanted to leave this moment, just wanted to stay here buried in Dean for the rest of eternity.

Sam was vaguely aware of Dean being rolled away from him. He slipped out with a small noise of protest. Sam would have sworn he heard a quiet laugh from Castiel when Sam made a joyful sound as Dean was returned to him. He snuggled behind Dean, molding their tired bodies together. He was almost asleep when a rough cloth travelled over his body. Sam pried one eye open to give Castiel a sleepy smile.

"Come to bed," he murmured. Castiel paused, as if unsure of his welcome. Sam reached out and tugged him down. They shared a lazy, unhurried kiss, and Sam had to admit Cas was a really fast learner. The bed dipped and Cas settled himself behind Sam, who tightened his grip on Dean and settled back into their angel.

***

Sam was comfortable, relaxed and warm. _Replete_ with satisfaction, even. Which was why he was understandably cranky when his mattress erupted upwards, throwing him to the other side of the bed.

"Dean?" Sam mumbled blearily. It took a moment for him to wake up enough to grin at his memories of the night before. The realization that it was the night before and this would be the morning after woke Sam up the rest of the way. "Dean? Cas?" It took a moment to pick out Dean, standing against one of the walls, hidden by shadows. His harsh breath was the only sound in the room over the pounding of Sam's heart.

"He is empowered." Sam startled at Castiel's voice. The angel was standing by the side of the bed, fully dressed, watching Dean across the room. "Get up, Sam. Get dressed. It's time."

"Shit." Sam scrambled out of bed and pulled on his pants and the first shirt he found. It turned out to be Dean's, fitting snugly over his shoulders. How in the world had he forgotten the whole catalyst for their...this thing? Sam paused when Dean stepped forward, the slit of light coming through the blinds highlighting Dean's face.

Dean's eyes glowed in the light. Black spots bloomed randomly in their depths, fading into preternaturally green irises. While Sam was still trying to process, Dean crossed the space between them in two strides. He tangled his hand in Sam's hair and pulled him down. Sam fell onto Dean's lips, bracing himself on Dean's shoulders. There was extra strength in Dean's hold, and so much power it made Sam's hair stand on end, sticking out in random directions. All Sam could do was hold on until Dean was done with him. When Dean released him Sam sucked in air, his mind dizzy.

"I have evil to destroy," Dean said, licking his lips. His voice was deeper; Sam could feel it vibrate deep in his bones. "But when I'm done, we're coming right back here and you get to be in the middle." Dean released Sam with an abruptness that sent him stumbling. Cas caught him by the arm. Dean trailed two fingers along the planes of Castiel's face before he _shimmered_ and disappeared.

"Is that—is that 'cause of the power? Or you?" Sam asked thickly. He adjusted himself without bothering to try and hide it.

"My influence only lasted five minutes," Castiel revealed. "As to the power...I doubt it."

"That's..." Sam replayed the last night, Dean's actions and responses all taking on a new light. "Fuck."

"I concur." The shared a mutual look of understanding. "Let's get this over with." Sam was laughing as Castiel transported them into the middle of Lucifer's army.

> apotheosis: n.  
> 1\. Exaltation to divine rank or stature; deification.  
> 2\. Elevation to a preeminent or transcendent position; glorification

**Author's Note:**

>  **Prompt(s):** Sam/Dean/Castiel – demons or witches or sex pollen spores or whatever make them all do it. They’re ALL conflicted and freaked out and reluctant about it, but they know they have to, or (insert bad thing here), so they go through with it, and, of course, love it (and, of course, freak out some more over that).


End file.
